Berry Picking Page 2

  After Bennet she'd fallen for Edwin, a successful businessman by way of Cameroon. He was different. He wasn't a dreamer and was more down to earth. He was ambitious, handsome and cultured. Everything her mother expected her to look for in a man.

  “Another bore,” her aunt had told Paula after meeting him.

  “What do you mean another bore?”

  “I mean another pretty sounding man who will certainly not translate into a long happy relationship.”

  “He's attractive, successful--”

  “All flash and no substance.”

  Paula rolled her eyes. “You've met him only once.”

  “That's all I needed. Actually, more than I needed. I know men. I married two, remember?”

  “Yes, heaven and hell. When will you tell me exactly what that means?”

  “Isn't it obvious?”

  “I liked Uncle Jules.”

  “So did everyone else.”

  “I hardly remember Uncle Wale,” Paula said, referring to her aunt's first husband. She remembered a quiet man who smelled like nutmeg and gave great hugs. Uncle Jules was funny and lively and wore expensive cologne. “What was the difference? Why was Uncle Wale heaven and Uncle Jules hell?”

  “You'll figure it out one day,” Aunt Miriam said in a cryptic tone.

  “Edwin loves me.”

  “Really? How do you know?”

  “He tells me all the time.”

  Aunt Miriam shook her head. “If he has to keep telling you he doesn't mean it.”

  “I don't believe that. Some men are more verbal than others.”

  “You think you're lucky. But instead you should think he's lucky.”

  “You're playing with words.”

  “And you're not listening to me.”

  Paula didn't listen because she didn't want to. What her aunt was saying sounded silly. Why should she worry about a man being lucky to have her? Or, how many times he told her he loved her? She had been convinced that it was only because her aunt thought she was the moon and the stars that she thought men should feel the same way about her. But from her experience, Paula knew men didn't think that way.

  At least Edwin hadn’t. Her aunt had been right again. He was all flash and soon the shine wore thin. He never cared what she had to say or how her day had been. No matter how much she'd dressed up, it was never good enough for him.

  Like a film stuck in a loop, his criticisms were always the same: “Are you going to wear that?” “Don’t you have something better to wear?'' “I don’t like your hair that way.” She'd stayed with him because her mother had been impressed, and she'd been flattered by how often people said they looked good together. But after nine months of dating, Paula discovered she wasn't the polished image he wanted to display. He quickly replaced her with his newly-hired personal assistant.

  Which was why she'd accepted the blind date with Conrad; she'd stopped trusting herself. She’d never gone on blind dates before because she didn't trust other people to select the right person for her. People underestimated her. They saw an attractive woman with a lot of degrees and success and assumed she was either frigid or high maintenance. But that was far from the truth. She liked science fiction movies and rock climbing. She liked to go kayaking and party all night in clubs. But now that she was past thirty-five, suddenly her lifestyle was unacceptable. Friends worried for her because she'd never married and they were convinced that it was better to be divorced than never to have been married.

  Her family felt the same way. Her two brothers and one sister were married, and her youngest sister was engaged. And she was only nineteen!

  “Why is it better to marry and divorce?” she'd once asked her aunt.

  “Because men will think there's something wrong with you if you’ve never been married.”

  “Why can't it be that I'm choosy?”

  “It's the law of nature. We as humans only like what other people like, and society says a woman should be married, or at least have tried. So, even if it's a bad match just find someone or you'll end up alone.”

  And she didn't want that. Even though the thought of settling down with just anyone made her cringe. But it had been the catalyst to agree to Tamara's pestering about the blind date. At first she'd been irritated by her friend's selection. She'd expected better. Didn't her best friend know they weren't right for each other? But the more Paula thought about her meeting with Conrad, the more she began to reconsider. Their conversation had been smooth and, if she was honest, she knew she liked him. Unfortunately, there had been no spark. No passionate chemistry and he didn’t have the look.

  “No, he won't call me and I'm fine with that,” Paula said, no longer sure if she believed it.

  ***

  But she was wrong. A week later Conrad called and asked her out to a comedy club, and to her surprise she heard herself quickly saying yes. This time there were no spilled glasses or secret kittens. Instead they spent the evening enjoying a playful banter with the comedian, who heckled Conrad about his large size and clothes. “I think I saw that jacket before on the original version of the Incredible Hulk.” The crowd laughed and Conrad took no offense and Paula felt relaxed. He was confident and didn't take himself too seriously. He was comfortable in his skin. Yes, he could be awkward at times, but she found it more endearing than annoying. As they walked back to his car, she shivered at the chilly evening wishing she'd brought something warmer to wear. Conrad took off his coat and handed it to her. It was his gray tweed jacket and it still had the smudge near the hem. She'd rather freeze than be caught wearing it so she offered him a smile and said she was okay.

  Although she rejected this offer, Paula found herself saying yes to trips to the museum, bicycle riding, movies, and outdoor concerts. But there were still differences between them that she had to address. Like his clothes. He wasn't a great dresser and if she wanted to introduce him to anyone he had to present himself well.

  “I have a networking event coming up and I need a date,” she told him one day after they'd had lunch. “But first I need to know if you have a suit.”

  “Of course I have a suit.”

  “I want to see it.” Minutes later she stood in front of his closet and frowned. His kitten Wispy kept brushing up against her leg and purring. She glanced down at her, curious. “Why does she keep doing that?”

  “Because she likes you. Give her a quick pat and she'll stop.”

  “Oh.” Paula bent and awkwardly stroked the kitten. She'd never had pets and had never been interested but had to admit it was cute. However, she had come to his house for a reason. She straightened and looked at his clothes again. The suit was awful. She lifted a sleeve then released it as if it were crawling with ants. “Where did you get this?”

  “It's tailor made. All my suits are because of my size.”

  She turned to him surprised. “Really?”

  He nodded.

  She lifted the suit to make sure. It looked off the rack but she could see some minor alterations had been made. However it was not superior quality. “How much did you pay?” When he told her the amount she swore. He was being ripped off. His tailor had been gleefully stealing money from him for years. Conrad was too nice and trusting. She tossed the suit on the bed in disgust. “Do you still have the receipt?”

  “Uh...yes.”

  “Get it.”

  “Why?”

  “We're getting you a refund.”

  ***

  When she met Mr. Stewart, the tailor, she expected a beady little man with clammy hands. He was nothing of the sort. Instead he had an engaging grin and warm, firm handshake. She wasn't fooled. She handed him the suit. “There's been an error. He wants the suit for which you charged him. Not this poor imitation. And yes, please argue with me on this. I'm in a bad mood and will enjoy making your life miserable. No, don't look at him, look at me. You charged him for cloth you didn't provide, a stitch you didn't do and I could go on, but I'll save that for my lawyer.”

  “L
awyer? There's no need for that. It's just a simple misunderstanding.”

  “Fix it.”

  Minutes later they left the shop with a promise of three new suits in the dimensions that Paula expected. Conrad held the car door open for her, amazed. “You're incredible.”

  “I know. When he calls to say they're ready, let me know. I'll pick them up.”

  Conrad got into the driver's side. “I'm sure he didn't mean any harm. He knows I have money.”

  “That's even worse. You should wear clothes according to your status.”

  Conrad laughed. “I don't care about that.”

  “It's bad business to treat customers the way he does. He doesn't respect you and you should always command respect. I don't ever want you going back there. I know a tailor you can trust.”

  He didn't go back but the final three suits he got from Mr. Stewart were stunning. After two months of seeing each other, Paula knew he wanted their relationship to become more serious--she wasn't sure yet, especially when there were still other options. And one day one of those options showed up.

  Chapter Three

  “Paula?”

  Paula turned towards the voice. She'd been waiting for Conrad to meet her. She was attending a key networking event to gain more clients for her company. It had been her aunt's idea. “If he cares about you, he'll show up. It's important for a man to show interest in your career.” And he had. He'd just left to get them both drinks and she was alone, ready to mingle. The man who'd spoken her name was beautiful and so sinfully hot he could have made the sun sweat. “Yes?”

  “I thought so. I was in your class at the University of Maryland.” Paula had been an adjunct professor at the university for two years, teaching business finance and commerce.

  Yes, she remembered him. Andre Bell. He'd set the campus on fire, not just for his athletic ability, taking the university to a national basketball championship, but he was smart, and was admired by all.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  Paula fought to get her mouth in working order. “Well.”

  “You look great. If you're done with all your meet and greet, I'd like to take you out for coffee.”

  He could take her out for coffee, tea, soda whatever he wanted. She really wanted to go. This was her chance. She could leave right now; send a text to Conrad and say that something had come up. He'd understand. It was tempting, but something made her stop. “Sorry, I can't. I'm here with someone.”

  “Someone special?”

  “No, we're just friends,” she said, wanting to leave the door open for a second invite.

  “Maybe another time then.”

  Yes. She glanced up and saw Conrad carrying a plate of desserts. He looked great in his new suit. Not debonair, but presentable. He was just a few feet away when he tripped and a strawberry tart landed on the front of his shirt leaving a bright pink stain. Paula briefly hung her head. Figures. She glanced at Andre and saw his mouth quirk as he tried not to laugh.

  “Sorry I took so long,” Conrad said handing her the plate. “I got chatting with this guy about his business that really needs to be restructured. I got his card for you and gave him your name. I told him you were one of the best.” He fumbled for the card he had placed in his pocket. “Ah, yes here it is.”

  “Thanks,” Paula first glanced at the card then stared when she read the name.

  Andre glanced over her shoulder and read the name then gave a low whistle.

  Paula stared at Conrad amazed. “How did you get this?”

  Conrad frowned. “I just told you.”

  “Do you know who this is?” She didn't let him answer. “He's a known entrepreneur. He turns businesses into multimillion dollar empires. I'm a nobody.”

  “No you're not. He said he could use your services.”

  “He was probably just being nice,” Andre said.

  Conrad shot him a glance and stretched out his hand. It appeared like a warm friendly gesture, but there was a chill to his tone. “And you are?”

  “Andre Bell.”

  “This is a former student of mine,” Paula said.

  Conrad nodded. “I see. Well, you may not have much confidence in Paula, but I do. He wasn't being nice.”

  Andre grinned. “I didn't mean to offend you it's just that guys like that usually come to these events to throw their money around, get their names known, then leave. They don't need help.”

  “He does.”

  Paula lightly touched Conrad's arm not wanting him to argue. Andre was probably right but Conrad had such a good heart he probably wouldn't know the difference.

  The two men couldn't be more different. It was almost painfully stark--one looked like a champion golden retriever, the other a loyal bloodhound.

  “I'd better go,” Andre said. “Talk to you later, Paula. Nice to meet you Conrad.”

  Conrad nodded and Paula merely waved.

  “Old friend?” Conrad asked, watching Andre get up and walk over to another guest.

  “I told you, I met him at the university.”

  Conrad was quiet a moment then looked at her. “Did he ask you out?”

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “I wouldn't blame him.”

  Paula stood feeling restless and guilty, although she had no reason to. “Let's go. You need to change your shirt.”

  He gently tugged her back down. “Relax. It won't stain.”

  “You've done this before?”

  “You're avoiding my question.”

  Paula picked up a ladyfinger then softly said, “Yes, he asked me to have coffee.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “Guess.”

  He briefly closed his eyes. “You said 'No, my boyfriend wouldn't like it.'“

  Boyfriend? Funny she'd never even thought of that. Had they really gotten to that stage? Did she want to?

  Conrad sighed and looked at her. “So that's not what you said?”

  “I did say no,” she said wondering why the feeling of guilt continued to linger. They'd never talked about being exclusive.

  “But you didn't say I was your boyfriend.”

  “I didn't know you were.”

  “What do you think I am?”

  “Just a friend.”

  Conrad shook his head and offered her one of his rare crooked smiles. “I like you too much to be just a friend. If you don't want more, then let's stop this now.”

  “No, I just...”

  “Go out with him. If he's the one you want to be with, just let me know.”

  “Conrad don't,” Paula said now feeling anxious. She playfully nudged him with her elbow. “Come on. You know I like you.”

  “Go out with him then we'll both know how much.”

  ***

  “You're giving up a good guy,” Aunt Miriam said as Paula prepared for her date with Andre. She'd asked to borrow her aunt's gold necklace and her aunt had insisted on coming over with it.

  “I'm not giving him up. I'm just taking a break.”

  “And in the meantime someone else will snap him up.”

  “No one has so far.”

  “That's because women are stupid.”

  Paula turned to her aunt surprised. “I thought you were a feminist.”

  “I am, but that doesn't stop me from seeing the failings of our sex. If we're not indulging in unhealthy diets or falling for beauty fads we're choosing the wrong men.”

  “It's just coffee.”

  “For now,” Aunt Miriam said with a knowing look.

  ***

  Her date that evening was almost magical. Everything was perfect. Unlike Conrad, Andre arrived on time beautifully dressed carrying a single white rose. There were no awkward silences. The conversation was fascinating. Unlike Bennett, Andre was established, so he wasn't one of those high flying dreamers she used to attract; and, unlike Edwin, he listened to her. He was warm, funny and gracious. And she knew they looked wonderful together.

  “This was great. Let's make it dinn
er next time,” he said. He walked beside her as they navigated an uneven pavement outside the restaurant.

  A second date? Really? Before she could reply a metal construction sign dropped from its hold and struck her arm, tearing her sleeve and cutting her arm and hand.

  “Are you okay?” Andre asked.

  “Yes, I'm fine,” Paula said a little stunned.

  He looked at the cut and grimaced. “Oh that looks nasty. When you get home you'd better put some ice on that.”

  “I will,” she said, awkwardly adjusting her torn sleeve and moving her hand out of view. “Thanks for a great time.”

  He kissed her on the cheek then whispered, “Think about dinner.”

  “Yes.” Paula walked to her car, his warm breath still tingling her ear and the scent of his cologne lingering. She got inside her car, slammed the car door shut then swore. Now that she was alone she didn't have to pretend that her arm and hand didn't hurt like hell. Fortunately, her car was an automatic, not a stick shift. Once at home, Paula took off her torn blouse and cleaned her cuts with some hydrogen peroxide, put a bandage on both, then grabbed a drink from her fridge and noticed Conrad's birthday circled on her calendar. Treating a friend for his birthday wasn't wrong. She'd gotten him tickets to a 3D feature at a small obscure theatre she knew he liked. She decided to call him. It had only been a week, yet she'd started to miss his voice. “Do you have any plans for Saturday?” she asked once he'd picked up.

  “I'll be in Maui with my model girlfriend.”

  She chuckled. “Before you go I have a treat for you.”

  “Okay.”

  ***

  It had been a couple weeks since she had been with him at the networking party, and a lot had happened. The contact Conrad had given her from the networking event had come through; he had signed a lucrative contract with her company and she had been nominated for an award recognizing young business professionals. They were two things she was surprisingly eager to tell him about. That evening, Paula took her time getting dressed. She wasn’t sure why, then just figured it was because it was his birthday and she wanted it to be special. When he opened the door she waved the tickets and smiled. “Happy Birthday.”